My birthday weekend landed in the middle of a work trip to Vienna, so I took the opportunity to visit an old friend: Zee Alps. I rented a car and after work drove into the heart of the city to find the via ferrata equipment I needed. It was a mess. The parking garages were full, tourists and locals were everywhere at 4pm on a Friday, and I couldn't read any of the signs. Somehow I managed to drive my manual Renault Captur past St. Stephan's Dom, through the cobblestone streets and locate a parking area close to the Alpenverein Austria, who's website claimed that climbing equipment could be rented. As it turned out, you needed to be a member of the club to rent, so as opposed to paying the €61 member fee, I found another nearby store to purchase a Edelrid Cable Kit for €120. (Shocking that I don't own one already, I know!) I picked up some supplies and set the alarm for 6am.

Thankfully the dark streets were empty in the morning and I made a quick exit for the Danube. I crossed the river at Mautern an der Donau and snapped a few photos of the dawn glow over the river. The sun rose on the way to Dürnstein and I was treated to foggy, glow on the Burgruine Dürnstein castle around the corner. I took a quick walk around town along the river and up to the Monastery and Church and then continued on up the Wachau Valley. In Spitz, the terraced wine hills glowed in the morning sun and I cruised through the backroads to a spectacularly decorated graveyard by the Weingut Hofstätter winery. The town was a postcard picture in every direction. Then I climbed up to the Hinterhaus castle and it only got better! There wasn't a single person in sight, the morning fog was burning off the Danube, and the hillside vineyards stretched as far as the eye could see. I climbed to the top of the castle with delight and snapped photos. What a great start to my day and it was only 9am! Upstream, I doubled back at Melk to visit Burgruine Aggstein. I wasn't able to absorb too much of the history written in German, but really appreciated the 12th-century design and the view of the valley.

At this point, I headed southwest past Linz and into the Alps. Tunnel after tunnel past and I arrived in Liezen nestled in a glacier carved valley in the state of Styria. I passed pristine farmland with steep mountain backdrops until reaching the ski town of Schladming. I stopped off at the info center and asked what a nice ~2 hike they recommended. I ended up selecting the "Holl" trail up Riesach Waterfalls which included a suspension bridge and an obstacle course of metal stairways through the canyon. It was fun. After the 10th waterfall the trail cut left and popped out in an open area with a glacial lake and surprisingly, Gfölleralm Inn, packed with trailrunners and others travelers enjoying a late lunch or bier. I grabbed a well-deserved half liter of Schladminger and basked in the afternoon sun. It felt great. The people watching was topnotch as well - groups of various sizes would stop in to rest and have a drink before making the final descent to the Seeleiten Car Park. This was part of the 18 km Klafferkessel King's Tour route that included 1759 m of climbing, so I'm guessing many of the guests were completing similar excursions. (BTW Make sure to add that to the to-do list.) I made the descent and only got lost once attempting a risky shortcut. I drove across the valley and climbed the switchbacks to Ransau am Dachstein. I checked into Pension Rötelstein, a ski chateau overlooking green horse pastures. The hosts recommended getting dinner at Alpengasthaus Edelbrunn. I sat on their deck enjoying pork cooked with pumpkin seeds, potatoes, bacon wrapped green beans, and a beer as the sun set over the distant peaks.

The next day was my birthday, so I set my sights on a challenging task: tying together three via ferratas called Anna, Johann and Schulter up Hoher Dachstein - the combined "Super Ferrata" is Austria's longest secured climbing route. This adventure would require 1200 m of climbing, so I made sure to start early. Just as the first rays of reflected alpenglow were reaching the base of the tram, I started trekking towards Dachstein Südwandhutte. It was 6:35am and I was excited for my day. I got some beta from the hotel owners: the glacier traverse would be safe since it's snowcatted daily, but the via ferratas might not have many people. Since I was solo, I did want some others around in the case of an accident. Luckily, there was a group of 3 from Salzburg in front of me, so I'd be able to yell to them if I had any problems. I geared up at the base of the climb and watched as a couple groups in front of me slowly worked their way up. Interestingly, the Ramsau/Dachstein area is very well known for Klettersteigen (Via Ferratas "Iron Paths"). There are 21 fixed cable routes in the area and the route up the Dachstein was installed in 1843. These were used in WWI and eventually upgraded in the 1970s to the modern versions that exist today.

I started out very poorly on Anna. It was hard! I didn't have the technique so I made a number of mistakes and had to constantly pull the lanyards up to switch to the next section of cable. Unlike the via ferrata that I remember being easy in Zermatt, this required some rock climbing moves in addition to just pulling on the iron pins. After a couple hundred feet I was tired and stressed. If this is rated C/D, what's the D/E-rated Johann going to be like? After struggling and over muscling myself up the first section, the difficulty lightened and I got to work on technique. I mastered quickly clipping and sliding the carabiners along with me. Before long, I found a rhythm. An experienced climber using a single attachment passed me and I asked about the Johann. He said that it was similar to this except there was one overhanging part that gave it the D/E grade. Interesting. Over the next hour or so I finished off the route and found a couple guys with a topo of the route that I should have printed. It showed that the E grade move was at the start of the climb, so I figured I should at least have a look. As I approached, there were a couple women working on the move. The first made it look easy and then the second climbed up but couldn't pull over the top, lowered down and then fell. She was caught by her gear, spun upside-down and sat there for a minute talking to her partner in German. Her partner down-climbed the moves and we helped get her off the cable. Unfortunately her bungee was torn (as designed) but was no longer usable. This is the bad part of this equipment - it's a one-shot deal. You don't get a 2nd chance. And if you're on a 500+ m route, there might be a lot of distance between you and the exit. Fortunately, the ladies could just head down from there.

Having seen the person in front of me fall, I cautiously tried the moves. It turned out to be a fairly easy ~10 ft of upper-body work to clear the overhang and move on. Honestly, it's quite straightforward when rested. It's always nice on the top side of the crux. The rest was just good fun and the middle section looked like a Yosemite big wall! It was sick. I worked up the the group of 3 in front of me and we finished the climb together as the cold wind picked up. You cross over to the otherside and there's a hut and a crowd that walked from the top of the tram. It's a little bizarre. I took a few bites of a brie and Hauswürstel sausage sandwich and walked across the glacier to the final klettersteig. It was close to noon and since I had a good 3.5 hr drive back to Vienna to go, I got straight to work. The Schulter route was easier than the others, but before long the route turned to ice and my shoes would slip on the rock and pins. Luckily I brought some yaktraks and put those on. It worked like a charm - I gripped the ice and could hold the rock/iron reasonably. By this point, I was tired and considered bailing, but it was still early and the weather was great on that side of the mountain. I scurried up the to the summit of Styria/Upper Austria and the massive cross at the top. It was a good feeling and great to do it for my birthday. 12:30 on the summit!

I down-climbed the route carefully but passed a handful of people. At the bottom, I walked across the plank across the crevasse between the rock and glacier and skipped down a hundred feet or so. I reached into my back pocket and didn't find my phone. Oh no! Did I drop my phone off the cliff somewhere?! I searched my backpack and all my other pockets: nothing! I was gutted. No photos, no GPS navigation, and a full week without communications. I figured I'd ask the person behind me if they saw anything and then I thought it might have dropped into the snow on the glacier. On the way back to the crevasse I saw a familiar case laying in the snow. Yes, crisis averted! I warmed myself in the hut, took off the climbing gear, and walked the short way back to the tram. A quick ride back down the mountain and I was at the car. It was 3:00pm so I had done the whole route in a little less than 8.5 hours. Not shabby.

Then I drove the long way back to Vienna. I ran out of water on the Hallstatt/Dachstein Gletscherwanderweg and was fighting off cramps on the drive. Eventually I stopped to rehydrate and get an apple strudel birthday treat. There was a traffic jam on the way back but I eventually dropped the rental off at the airport and took the metro to my hotel by 10pm - just in time to catch a few z's before getting up at 6am for meetings.

The rest of the week was more subdued, but I did get to see some of the city. My colleague from the University of Zurich studied 5 years in Vienna, so he was keen on showing off all the local cafes (i.e. bars) like Cafe Bendl, Lamée Rooftop, SKY, Loos, etc. I managed to sneak into a private nighttime tour of the Schönbrunn with the ISGAN crew, had dinner at the Rathaus, ate too many treats at Cafe Dommayer, and visited a biergarten near the conference hotel. All in all, it was a lovely week.

I managed to free up most of a workday to head up to Battleship Rock in the Jemez for a midweek search. I arrived about 11:30am to Incident Base to find many teams were already out. I spent a long time brainstorming with the incident commander about search plans and talking to the reporting party. The 71 year old father and 20 year old autistic son had been missing since yesterday afternoon.

Groups had searched all the logical areas (streams, trails, etc.) in the immediate area so the IC sent the next team to search around Jemez Falls. He asked if I would join but I suggested that Brendan and I search around surrounding cliffs. Brendan and I believed they would be within a mile of the point last seen and suspected the father had been disabled and the son couldn't get help.

We took off and searched around Battleship Rock and then started searching the cliffs south of the ridge. We worked up and over to the north and encountered a huge ravine. We kept shouting (verbal attraction). We contoured around to get into the canyon, where we planned to walk out back to base. To get in, we descended a steep loose hillside and then walked down the dry riverbed. One of the other teams had searched the stream earlier that morning, so we weren't expecting to see anything at that point.

After a bit, springs filled the canyon with a few inches of water and we had to bushwhack and sneak through the deepening brush. We passed waterfalls, tent rocks, and then entered a steep-walled canyon. We were getting very close to the intersection of the trail when I spotted someone in the fetal position in the creek. "Hey! Are you Patrick?" I yelled. No response, but he looked up. The young man was completely nude with his hands and feet in a couple foot waterfall. Luckily the sun was shining into the canyon and the temperatures were reasonably warm. He was clearly injured with a blackeye and multiple scrapes. "Patrick, we've been looking for you!" I was warned by his mother that Patrick could be aggressive and would pull hair, so I kept a little distance at first. But then I moved closer and pulled him out of the stream and up onto the trail, gave him my jacket and covered him up. He reached for me and I reluctantly couched down to see what he needed. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a hug - thankful to have Brendan and I there to assist. We gave him food and water, called in the find, and medical status/vitals. Patrick didn't say anything. "Where are your shoes Patrick?" Nothing "Do you know where your father is?" Nothing. I walked down the trail and found his shirt, shorts, and a sock in the stream. Only 150' downstream from Patrick was an unavoidable 50-60 ft waterfall. Ironically, Brendan and I were about to be cliffed out and forced to backtrack. The first team didn't search in this area because they went up and around this section of the canyon. I called the IC and let him know that this would be turning into a technical rescue and what equipment we'd need: rigging kit, 200' rope, 3 harnesses and 3 helmets. Brendan and I weren't expecting to need climbing gear, so we left everything in the cars. Even with it, we wouldn't have been able to get off the cliff since Patrick couldn't support his own weight and he didn't have any clothing. So we waited for support.

It took the firefighters a little more than 2 hours to get into the canyon by walking around the long way even though we were only 1/4 mile from the parking lot. In that time, Patrick continued to drink and took a nap. His pulse was fast - probably from the dehydration - but stable. It was clear that he wouldn't be walking out under his own power. I let the IC know that we needed a litter and wheel at the base of the waterfall. With only Brendan there, I didn't want to run a full rescue system, and opted to rappel with Patrick. While the EMS team assessed Patrick, I spearheaded the technical rescue. We built an anchor, halfed the rope and created to rap lines. I got in the firefighter harness (fairly comfy, with an integrated harness). Patrick was helped down the trail to the cliff. They didn't have an ATC so I rigged up a brake rack for the rappel, though I didn't know how many bars to use. At the last minute someone arrived at the bottom with my climbing equipment, so I switched out to my ATC. I clipped the patient into my system and we approached the edge. Patrick couldn't support his own weight so Brendan and a firefighter helped move him toward the edge while I supported him with my shoulder. When we paused, he sat down and we had to force him back up. I tried to tell him to walk backwards, but it was hopeless. He was basically an uncooperative, semi-limp tandem rappeller. At the edge he sat down on the system and I started working down the face; one hand on the prussic and the other holding Patrick vertical. It was dark so I don't think he realized how high we were, which was a good thing because I was nervous he might freak out. He didn't, and we quickly worked down the rockface. He dragged his feet across the wall on the way down, but otherwise I was able to manhandle the harness and mostly hold him upright off the rock. At the bottom, I unclipped and a large team loaded him into the litter. We hit the trail and 10-15 minutes later he was re-united with his mother. This whole time he only said one word to us, "water", but when he saw his mother he started to talk in more complete sentences. It was stunning. Once in the ambulance Patrick finally got a full medical assessment and I got my jacket back.

Unfortunately, the father wasn't located until the following morning. Apparently he fell 90 ft and was killed. I can only imagine seeing his father fall and then spending a cold dark night in the wilderness would have been traumatic for Patrick, even if he didn't fully understand what was happening. I'm just happy that I could help him get back to his mother.

After the Grand Picnic, my knee was toast. I entertained the idea of mountain biking for a while, but I couldn't even get up and down the condo stairs. The ladies were off at the Mountain Biking Camp, so the gents got a massive brunch with sausage, pancakes, hash-browns, and an omelet at Nora's in Wilson. After Mike and I did a bit of day-drinking, the gang went out on Jackson that evening to The Rose, Silver Dollar, and Million Dollar Cowboy, which was popping on a Saturday night. Cool times with the lads and Adi. A number of locals were very impressed with our picnic adventure--which is a big part of why we do those things: so we can tell good stories at the bar.

The following day, I finally mustered the strength and right ibuprofen dosage to do some riding. Dave and I rode Lithium, which was a super steep loose double black diamond. It wasn't all that fun until the bottom when the trail turned into more of a bike park and we could choose our own adventure. I didn't hit anything large, but sent a few nice rollers and drops. We snagged a beer and lunch at Stagecoach and then shuttled up to Phillips Ridge. After some navigational issues, Josiah, Dave, Grant, and I ripped through the canyon, sessioning the bridge launch, and generally being silly and blasting tunes. The weather was so perfect, especially considering it was 102 in Albuquerque.

That evening the ladies returned, we all cooked up a great pasta dinner and then hit the town. This time our crew closed the Million Dollar Cowboy, and the DJ declared this was the best Sunday he's because our crew was so fun.

Monday, we grabbed breakfast at Cafe Genevieve and then headed north to camp up near Shadow Mountain (roundabout 43.700852, -110.604518). Some folks mountain biked, but Mel, Bri, Jo, Dave, Adi, and I headed down to Jenny Lake to swim and paddleboard. The winds whipped up, so SUPing wasn't very easy, but we managed a few laps. We grilled up chicken back in camp and told stories around the camp fire. The sunset over the Tetons was spectacular. In the morning, it was off to the airport and back to the real world. Also, don't forget to ditch your bike CO2 cartridges before flying - TSA really doesn't like them apparently.

A crew of mountain bikers invited me up to Jackson Hole to ride for 5 days, but I thought it might be nice to mix up the adventures, so I asked the faceplace if anyone would be interested in climbing the Upper Exum. My friend Mike said he'd be down, and then asked if I would be into a picnic? I quickly replied, "I would die if I tried the picnic." But one's mind tends to wander, and after watching the following movie a couple times, I couldn't help but be sucked into the audacity of such an event: 22 mile bike, 1.3 mile open-water swim, and 10 mile hike with a 7500' climb to the top of Grand Teton. Then reversing the whole thing. I had to go from zero to fit in 3 weeks!

On July 20th, 2018 at 1:30am, after 3 hours of sleep, the alarm went off. Mike and I crawled out of Josiah and Briana's van--we slept there to avoid the revelry inside the condo. To our surprise the gang was still up and wished us whiskey-soaked well-wishes as we scarfed leftover spaghetti (Jay) and oatmeal (Mike). Then we loaded up the last of the gear and drove Mike's truck to the center of Jackson, WY. I insisted that we use bike racks/bags to haul gear because it would be much easier on our backs. We were easily towing 40 lbs of gear between the climbing equipment, clothes, wetsuits, food, and water but we managed to keep the weight on the bike frames through some combination of jerry-rigging and engineering prowess.

Our food supplies.

My bike setup.

We snapped a few photos at the antler arches in Jackson and at 2:26am, we rode north into the darkness. After a block and a half, Mike's bike light strap popped off his bike and skittered across the empty street. The handlebars were too large for the design so he held the light the remainder of the ride in one hand. Within 1/2 hour my bike light faded to a useless glow so we rode side-by-side on the road. There were only a couple cars at this hour so we preferred the wide road over the bike path. I was able to catch enough second-hand light in the moonless night to estimate the lanes. By the time we passed the Jackson Airport, Mike said he had a emergency dump on deck. We worked our way to the Visitor Center in Moose, but the restrooms were locked. Not knowing the area well, we continued until the Jenny Lake Campground, where Mike noisily relieved himself. I insisted we try the bike trail along the campground because it appeared on my Gaia map and I didn't want to backtrack. Fortunately, it worked out and we quickly reached the Jenny Lake Overlook.

My feet were absolutely freezing in the 45 degree night. The bike had chilled me significantly and the idea of getting into a snow-fed lake seemed profoundly asinine. I was stoked to have the first leg of the trip completed but Jenny Lake looked beautiful, vast, and intimidating. It was amazing seeing the Tetons silhouetted on the horizon and Mars reflecting off the small ripples. I proudly announced, "Look at how big Mars is Mike! It's the closest it's been to the US since like the 1990s." He replied, "The closest to the US, eh?" "Shut up, I might be a little tired, alright."

I took the lion's share on the bike in exchange for Mike swimming the gear across Jenny Lake (playing to both our strengths). He had purchased a small Ozark Trail inflatable cooler holder from Walmart for $4. Upon inflation, we both admired it's seeming inadequacy. We stashed our bikes in the forest to the north of the parking area and hoped they would be there when we returned, and then hiked down the steep embankment to the rocky shore. We tossed our shoes, gloves, hats, and lights into the dry bag and then wrapped the gear into a semi-buoyant mass with 40' of 7mm dynamic. I brought an ice climbing axe leash to act as a bungee in the line; by inserting this in a bight of the rope between the raft and Mike with a couple alpine butterflies, he could swim more smoothly. I helped push our gear out to sea as Mike and I worked our frozen feet over the rough rocks until it was deep enough to start swimming. It was 5:00am.

Without the moon, it was really, really dark, but the stars were spectacular. We aimed for the notch in the mountains where we thought the dock was. I alternated breast, free, and back as I worked across the bottomless abyss. While I backstroked away from shore, I tried to memorize the patterns of trees in case we were going to return in the dark. Even with the gear in tow, Mike was a powerful swimmer and I had to swim free to keep up with him. Fortunately the peanut butter-honey-banana bagel sandwiches and donut we had at the transition provided ample fuel. I figured it would take us about an hour to cross the lake, so every few minutes I hit the light on my watch to see our hypothetical progress. The time ticked by and we had extensive disagreements about who was off course. "Jay, are you trying to make this a 2 mile swim?!" "No, you're the one that's drifting with the current because of the floaty!" In the end, we both ended up at the dock at the same time - ~50 minutes after entering the lake. I pulled out a phone and made Mike go back to get some sunrise photos.

We stripped naked on the dock and changed into our hiking gear. A family of ducks happily paddled through the mirror-like sunrise reflection. Mike stashed the water equipment in the forest to the south and we topped off water bottles. We started the hike, but quickly discovered that the normal Jenny Lake Trail along the lake was closed and we'd have to take Moose Trail, which added nearly an extra 500' of climbing (each way!). It was painful to start, but we scored nice photo in the process.

At Lupine Meadows Trailhead, we completed a heavy round of restroom use and began the ascent in earnest. The Garnet Canyon Trail climbed quickly through a series of switchbacks above Bradley and Taggart Lakes. The wildflowers were gorgeous in the morning light and we tried to not to become too discouraged by groups passing us.

We made our way into Garnet Canyon and worked our way through the early boulder fields. When we had the opportunity to transition to the snow, I happily took it. After a while, I looked at Mike and said, "Are we heading left of this headwall and going for this peak? Because it really looks like we should have gone right of the waterfall back there," pointing to Spalding Falls. We pulled out the phones. Yep, we managed to miss the trail and were aiming for the Middle Teton, despite reading the route description multiple times each. Backtrack or push on? We decided to climb Meadows Headwall which consisted of hundreds of feet of loose scree and then work across the North Fork through boulders and snow. It was a critical error because it burned a lot of our strength and was mentally draining. But we continued in style.

After another stretch of rockfield meandering we arrived at the fixed line. It was an easy way to reach the lower saddle, but as opposed to cutting left at the top of the wall, we tried to save distance and work right which led us into another steep stretch of exhausting scree climbing. At the top, I was completely cooked. I filled up water at the creek so I was good, but Mike needed to head back to the saddle to refill his camelbak. This was the critical break I needed to eat a bacon-cold cut-swiss bagel and recharge. Bacon in the backcountry is magically stuff. Even if you don't feel hungry, there's something about the fatty taste that compels your body eagerly put it down. Sheltered from the chilly winds behind a boulder in my rain jacket, I could feel some strength returning. There was still ~2500 feet of technical climbing above us, but the weather was perfect, and we'd come so far already. We had to give it a go.

At the Needle, I ditched the trekking poles and Mike left his ice ax. From here, things got more exciting. We worked up the Chockstone Chimney, through the Eye of the Needle, and pulled the exposed "Belly Roll Almost". The moves weren't particularly difficult but there was enough exposure to give me pause. Mike, who's done big wall climbing in Yosemite and free soloed a number of moderate routes in the Sandias, didn't seem to think twice at anything the OS threw at him. It's nice to have someone with so much confidence on your picnicking team.

My normal hiking shoes lost their sole on a trip up Oxford and Belford a couple weeks ago so I pitched them and revert to an even older set of bald Cascadias with sizable holes in the front mesh. Mike said bald tread would be a recipe for my demise. My La Sportiva approach shoes were too heavy and my attempt to pick up light trail runners gave me arch pain so, at the last opportunity, I got a new set of Brooks Cascadias. Mike was right about the safety issues without tread, but it meant I was doing the Picnic with shoes I owned for 36 hours. Not a great plan but aside from a few hot spots, they performed admirably, especially on the steeper rock up high.

We continued to pull bigger-than-necessary moves up the Central Rib and every couple of moves I'd have to stop to catch my breath. The altitude was less an issue than pure exhaustion of 10 hours of exercise. At the upper saddle, we took at food break and watched dozens of butterflies blowing across the saddle. That was unexpected. It was 12:30pm and another group was rapping off the top. There actually were quite a few (maybe 6) guided teams on the way up and down the OS while we were there. We expected company but were happy that they weren't in our way and we could move at our own pace. At this point, we put on harnesses and pulled out our 7mm dynamic line. It looked like floss, but was rated to 12.4 kN so it would hold a fall (if it wasn't cut with a swing). We only brought it mostly to just give me the mental security to make the moves comfortably. We examined the bellyroll - easy but exposed. Mike made the moves while I fed rope behind the rock in case of a slip. He tossed all the pro we brought (a couple nuts) into a crack on the other side, and I made the move. No big deal. Then Mike shimmied through the crawl and I followed him. Standing on the block below the 2nd entrance to the Double Chimney, Mike climbed up and slung a flake. I was puckered as he made the slabby move since we were tied together without any pro. He assured me, "I never fall," which is usually the part of the movie where nothing happens. I used the hand crack and worked up the 2nd entrance. We ditched the rope there for the remainder of the climb and worked up the icy Own Chimney. This didn't feel as exposed, but realistically was probably just as dangerous. We climbed the main route up Sargent's Chimney and scrambled to the summit. What a feeling of accomplishment that was! It was time to picnic! We pulled out four slices of pizza and snapped photos of the stunning national park. I could see much of the Teton Crest Trail and my parents and I completed back in Sept 2008, Teewinot, Jackson Lake, the Middle Teton, and a picturesque snowy alpine landscape stretched around us. We were at the half way point.

The way down was exciting. We stuck with the Main Sargent's Chimney because we didn't really know where the hidden exit was. As I made the down-climbing crux move, I noted to another climber repelling next to me that this was, "a little spicy," and he responded, "Uh, yeah, that looks crazy." I refused to rap to follow the strict ICEHAMA rules. Mike and I did bring ATCs in case we needed to bail and assumed (correctly) that there would be other groups around. We took the catwalk back to the bottom of Owen Chimney. The bottom of the Chimney was very icy, and I used a hold on the ice to make one of the final moves. It blew and scared the crap out of me. A few deep breaths later, we continued down the Double Chimney, and then reversed the roped work to reach the upper saddle. It felt good to be past the most exposed portions of the route, but we still had to carefully work our way back to the lower saddle. At this point spirits were high because we knew we had The Picnic in the bag. We just had to keep our nutrition in check and avoid cramming too much. We carefully descended the dry Owen-Spalding Couloir, through the eye-of-the-needle and back to the lower saddle. I was disappointed they didn't have a bathroom in camp, but we filled water and worked our way to the top of the snowfield to climbers left of the fixed lines.

I was very interested in saving myself as much down-climbing as possible, even if that was only 200'. We slipped into our trashbags and contemplated glissading down the steep face. The run-out was good but there were quite a few small rocks in the snow at the bottom. I should have collapsed my trekking poles to use as an ax and put on yaktraks - but I did neither. I was tired and lazy. As I was getting into the starting position, I lost my footing. At first I flipped face down and dug in, but then said to myself, "fuck it, let's do this" and rolled back over and used my feet, hands, and poles to steer - trash bag flapping around on my lower limbs. The body orientation and direction were good, but velocity greater than desired. I careened into the water runoff wavelets at the bottom and went airborne a few times. I lost my hat and sunglasses on one of the ramps. I dug in harder and came to a stop safe at the bottom with frosted arms and hands. "Woohooo!" I yelled up to Mike. A couple climbers on the trail yelled over that that was the best glissade they had ever seen, and said, "you were flying!" Indeed. Mike took his time to put on a jacket and gloves, and using the ice ax did a much better job of controlling his descent, until the bumps where he got tossed around too. That was certainly not a great idea, but it does make for a good story.

Down, down, down we hiked and scrambled. It was Friday and we watched as many climbing parties worked their was to various base camps. I did my best to use the trekking poles to shield my knees from impact, but my right knee slowly grew more sore. It was an absolute relief when we finally cleared the last of the boulderfields and would walk with a normal stride and minimized impact. On one of the switchbacks a deer was casually eating. Further down, Mike scared a small bear off the trail. Luckily, Mom wasn't around. The miles did not slide by quickly but we slowly brought the valley to foot-level. At the Lupine Meadows Trailhead many people seemed happy to have their hikes over, but we knew we had hours to go.

I was very interested in completing the swim before dark so we could avoid the navigational issues from the morning. We hiked fast and reclimbed the hill on Moose Trail. It hurt. We were tired. And then the mosquitoes came out. They were everywhere. We reached the boat dock at 8:00pm -- about 1 hour of light left. Once we found our aquateering equipment in the forest, we quickly changed into our wetsuits to keep the mosquitoes from eating us alive. A hiker, showed up and yelled, "what are you guys doing?!" I answered, "It's a lovely evening for a swim, don't you think?" Mike stepped in and described The Picnic. They guy called us crazy and I dove into the icy water. Ironically, in the evening, the snow/ice melt decreased the water temperature significantly on the West side of the lake so it was frigid. I thought it might actually be good for icing my knee.

We swam and swam and swam but the far shore didn't seem to be getting any closely. I would put my head down and swim freestlye with regular bearing checks, but the far side remained depressingly distant. It was starting to get pretty dark too, but we could see the rocky hillside below the parking lot. Eventually, we completed the 2nd swim and dragged ourselves across the rocks to shore. A surprised couple lounged in a hammock and watched us crawl onto a boulder. Then we noticed we were in front of their time lapsing iPhone. Oops. We pulled our shoes out of the drybag and walked up the hill to our bikes.

It took a long time to change back into dry clothes and rig the bikes. The decision was made to deflate our Walmart inflatable via ice ax. It gave a gratifying "pffff" when Mike stabbed it into a pile of cheap Chinese plastic. (Per the ICEHAMA rules, we did bike this back to town in order to start and stop the trip with the same equipment.)

It was extremely dark by this point. I had half a wrap that I scarfed down to fuel the return. We biked with our dim headlamps down to Moose. Traffic was heavy but we still stuck to the road because it was flatter and more predictable (even if the drivers weren't). Winds were calm so the riding wasn't terrible. It was great to be on the final stretch, but the car lights were blinding. I was happy I was wearing a baseball hat under my helmet so that I could shield my eyes. Mike wasn't as lucky. Toward the airport, someone slowed down and yelled at us to get on the bike path, so we finally transitioned over. It was harder riding, but nice to be separated from traffic. We could see the glow from Jackson, but it didn't seem to be getting closer. My knee ached like hell. We kept spinning. On the dark ride down to Flat Creek, the cars were blinding and it was a challenge to track the path. A couple days ago I joked to my friends that I was conducting an experiment; the experiment was to see if a 30-something with a beer-gut and a desk job can keep up with a ripped super-human who lives at the climbing gym and wakes up before 5am to interval hill sprints. I was thrilled to be leading the charge into Jackson. I held my own all day and I was proud of myself. We eventually reached the city limits and climbed the small hill to the square at 11:23pm. Mike and I hugged, stopped our Stravas, and sat down at the NW antler arch. The glowing screen reported 69 miles and 9860' of climbing. We had just finished the Grand Picnic! After convincing a scared tourist couple to snap a photo of us, Mike looked at me, "Do you remember where we parked?" I said, "Yeah, a couple blocks that way. You don't remember?" "It's been a long day."

We drove back to the condo, cracked a couple beers, showered, and fell asleep comfortable in the knowledge that no one else in Jackson had a bigger day than us.

Note: while I enjoy joking about our mishaps and challenges, The Picnic is a very serious undertaking that will stress any person physically and mentally. I have been volunteering with mountain rescue for nearly a decade; I have multiple triathlons and quadrathlons under my belt; I swam competitively for 9 years as a kid; and I can easily draw on a wealth of trad climbing and winter mountaineering experiences. I'd strongly recommend a comparable resume before even thinking about the Grand Picnic. It's a dangerous and exhausting outing. Be careful out there.

Mike and Ximena were getting hitched in Oaxaca, so I decided to add a little mountaineering to the trip. I wanted to climb Pico de Orizaba for years because of the high altitude challenge, so here was my chance. I asked a few friends to see if anyone was game and my old buddy Nick from my soccer team said he'd be up for the challenge. I had a few doubts about his fitness, but when he started doing La Luz laps, I booked the trip.

March 25th we flew into Mexico City, and eventually found the bus to Puebla. The coach bus had A/C and was very comfortable, but it didn't drop us off at the correct station in Puebla and we had to grab an Uber to CAPU before locating our connection to Tlachichuca. We spent an embarrassingly long time lugging double backpacks around the bus station before finding the Valles bus company - but we were on our way. It felt like the bus driver dropped us off on a cobblestone road at middle-of-nowhere Mexico in the dark. We rang the buzzer, and Maribel and the wonderful Cancholas family welcomed us into the Summit Orizaba fortress. We were treated to dinner and a beer and then shown to our room.

In the morning, we took a nice walk around town to the plaza and church and then arranged our 4x4 lift up to Piedra Grande Hut. Overall the place wasn't that busy and the only other climbers heading up were a couple guys from Oklahoma. Joaquin Canchola, who's a bit of a legend in his own right, deftly piloted us up the road toward the hut. He greeted everyone in town like a grandfather would. I spoke broken Spanish and he spoke OK English. We managed to hold a number of conversations about the poor farming practices of the area (i.e., vegetation burning), the weather, the forests, his family business, and our planned pick up time tomorrow. He had been bringing climbers up to the hut for three decades and had climbed Citlaltépetl a couple dozen times. Now in his 60s, he complained that his back was taking too much abuse from the rough road and he needed his sons to take over the driving. As we climbed, the flora shrank until it vanished. We could catch tasty glimpses of the Jamapa Glacier; then, after a couple hours, we made a scary turn to the homestretch where the hut sat miniscule under a looming giant. Piedra Grande sits at about 14,000' so just moving your gear into the shelter gets you breathing.

After checking out the facilities, we decided to do an acclimatization hike. I had gotten some beta from my buddy Pete that it was worth going through the labyrinth the first time in the daytime to get your bearings, so I wanted to check that out. Nick and I started up and I was feeling good. I had taken a little Diamox (acetazolamide) and it was doing it's job. Nick on the other hand was slow to start and was complaining of AMS symptoms within 500'. I told him that he needed to head back to the hut recover. I carried on and slowly got to the labyrinth--a massive boulderfield with mud, waterfalls, and lots of seemingly good route options. The trail was flagged many places, but not enough to keep me from getting lost a couple times. I finished the 2000' climb well to the right of the actual trail. Clouds had moved in so I couldn't see the glacier, but I had enough of the route memorized that I had the navigational crux figured out. I stashed a water bottle at the top to save a little weight in the morning, and then headed back to the hut. The Oklahoma team made it to within sight of the labyrinth but headed back when the weather started rolling in.

Back in camp, I talked with Nick about options. He was feeling sick and had already vomited. Ultimately, we decided that I would go in the morning at 2am and he'd start up later to acclimatize more. If things went well, we'd stay an extra day to give him a shot at the top. I would be going solo, but had the OK team around to lend a hand if needed help. (Although, something told me it might be the other way around.) They were going roped up because of the crevasses, but when I asked if they knew how to ascend a rope, they said they had practiced in the barn a few times after watching YouTube videos. I asked them to demonstrate and I gave them a few pointers. It was dumb luck that the hut that sleeps ~50 only had 4 Americans staying that night. (The next evening at least 7 different groups would be there.)

At 2am, the alarm went off. I ate some oatmeal and completed the final packing arrangements. I made a nontraditional choice to hike in running shoes to the glacier and carrying my mountaineering boots in my backpack. This would keep me faster down low and not tear my feet up as bad. It was a good decision because I moved very quickly through the steep loose terrain. I retraced my steps through the labyrinth from the day before and found my water bottle at 4am. I worked up to the glacier and made the transition to my glacier gear. Poles and shoes stayed, and the ax and crampons came out. I was extremely nervous that my toes would freeze up high, so I brought boot warmers for my La Sportiva Baruntses. It turned out that the Cascadias had lost their warmth by the transition, and I was super happy to turn on the heaters to begin the next stage of the climb.

The glacier ice was super hard and difficult to crampon at first. This was the section of the mountain that refreezes everyday and it was the cold period. I looked up and could only see blackness and white glacier. Aside from the towns lit up on the horizon, there was nothing to navigate to naturally so I headed up the fall line. I thought there's got to be a summit up there somewhere! After a half hour of painful climbing on steep ice, I doubled checked the GPS route from Pete and could see that I was a little to climber's left of where I wanted to be. I shifted right to avoid any crevasses and make sure to make the summit where I didn't have to traverse the crater rim. I continued but could tell I was slowing. The climb was very steep and the snow was so hard. The ice would often make awful cracking sounds, but I told myself that this was just the refrozen surface layer. I side-cramponed on one side, then shifted to the other - zigzagging up the mountain. It was too difficult to use the toespikes. I had to break every 20 minutes or so to catch my breath and look around at nothing. I didn't seem to be going anywhere and the altimeter seemed to be incrementing so slowly! I came upon a 6-foot deep, 2-foot across crevasse that gave me a pause. I decided it was harmless and I stepped over it and carried on.

By this point, sun started to lighten the sky and I could start to get my bearings. The glacier seemed to stretch indefinitely, but I knew where I was going: up there somewhere. I stopped for some tea and to snap photos of the black cone shadow on the flat farmland. The sight was incredible. I checked my altimeter: 17,900'. Time to give this another push and finish it off. I hiked about 100' and found strange ice formations. They were columnar ice fins about 2 feet high and very hard to traverse. I made a push through and I was standing on the rim of the volcano. What?! I checked my altimeter again: 18,100'. Huh, guess I should have calibrated it this morning! I walked the 100 feet over to the summit and happily dropped my pack. 6:30am - not bad at all. 4500' of climbing in 4.5 hours is mighty respectable when your going to 18.5k I figure.

It was my Dad's birthday, so I bought up a special flag to commemorate his 60th. I sipped warm tea and cracked a cold Modelo summit beer to take in the sunrise from the top of Mexico. I don't know if it was perfect combination of beer and altitude, but I had a smile ear-to-ear. I had the beautiful summit to myself. After all the hero shots, I headed back toward the heat.

The descent was fast, but it was surprisingly long. The glacier is 2000' high but certainly felt even more expansive. I could barely make out the Oklahoma team from up top. And by the time I got to them, they were about 500' up the glacier and moving slow. Apparently, they were lost in the labyrinth for an hour in the twilight. Yep, sounds about right. I snapped some photos for them and carried on down the mountain. I switched over to the trailrunners at the base of the glacier and carefully worked through the lower mountain. I rolled into camp at about 10am to find Nick still in bed guarding the gear. He had gone up to the labyrinth, but still wasn't feeling well. About an hour later, a crew of 18 locals arrived at Piedra Grande. The crowd cornered Nick and I in the hut and explained that they were a family that wanted to BBQ. We said we didn't have much aside from an assortment of dehydrated foods and bars to contribute, but they took the gesture well. One of the younger guys started pouring tequila shots for the alpinistas locas. They loved snapping photos of us and couldn't believe I climbed to the top. The BBQ was great, tequila spot on, and when Joaquin showed up at 2pm my heart was full from a successful expedition and gracious hospitality of the locals. After a bit, we finally spotted the others slowly working their way back to camp. Sadly they had to turn back at 17,200' because they weren't feeling well.

Back in town, we picked up a bottle of Tequila Corralejo Reposado and drank with Joaquin. He started pulling out all these log books of famous and no-so-famous climbers who had come through his hostel. He was particularly proud of his Fred Beckey notes and photos. He also is featured in a number books on the mountain and Mexican climbing. It was really cool to hear the stories from a man that was there all those years ago. One of his poetic quotes from one of the books read:

The next day we headed back to Mexico City and got some good tacos, bought wrestling masks, and tried out a nice mescaleria. The following day, Nick and I toured Teotihuacán. Climbing the Pyramid of the Sun was actually a little tough with how sore my calves were. We did a big tour of the place but around noon things were getting a little too hot and we went for tacos. Along the way we ran into a few guys doing the Danza de los Voladores (Dance of the Flyers) which was supremely entertaining. We bused back into the city and did one of the ride-on-top bus loops. Because many people had time off for Semana Santa, or Holy Week, it was fairly crowded, but we eventually worked our way to the upper deck. Riding around the town was super pleasant in the warm weather. Although it took forever to go only a few block we were happy to people watch from our mobile perch. It was a nice way to see the Plaza, Zocolo, Av. Reforma, Monumento a la Independencia, etc., but my favorite spot was in the south near Tamaulipas Michoacan where there are a bunch of nice eateries with dense tree-lined streets. Since it was a hop-on-hop-off setup, we stopped a few places to nab food and drinks.

The following day, Nick headed out to Peru in the morning and Jess landed a couple hours later. Jess and I grabbed a simple lunch near the airport on Easter, dodging a number of parades and demonstrations. Then we hopped on a flight for Oaxaca.

Oaxaca was a very walkable city. We could easily get to nearly everything from our AirBnB. We started by exploring the markets, sampling chapulines (crickets), and buying plenty of pastries. The entire town was quite touristy, but it still retained it's authenticity and charm. There were many walking streets, quaint bars and restaurants, and lots of nearby archaeological sites. After a fun 1/2 day exploring the town, we caught a bus up to Mike and Ximena's wedding. They insisted everyone have mezcal mixed drinks to toast to their future throughout the proceedings which would make sense if you knew them. The ceremony was short and heartfelt. Then it was on to a lovely dinner, dancing, and socializing. I was happy to present the married couple a gift - a beat up warm can of Tahoe Beer. (Long story but it was a running joke from our Tahoe ski trip in which these awful beers would show up randomly in our gear bags, cars, etc. Mike slipped it into my bathroom mirror cabinet 6 months ago, so it seemed fitting to give it to him on his wedding.)

The following couple days, M&X had tours arranged for the wedding guests. We visited Monte Albán ruins which was a lot of fun to explore with Jess, though the sun was vicious. We climbed up and down all the platforms and tried to hide in the shade where possible. That evening, Jess and I got adventurous and went to a Lucha Libre Mexican wrestling match down in the southern barrio at Arena Mastin III. It was a shockingly stressful event because it was a tiny venue of 3 rows of chairs (everything was the splash zone), we were regularly called out by the locals, and bodies were tossed off the ring into the audience all the time. You had to know when to get up and out of the way, which at first we didn't, but then we worked it out. There was tons of audience participation. After the rounds the kids would get in the ring and play fight or get signatures from their favorite wrestlers. We also had no idea what was going on and almost left before the pros came out for the finale rounds. In the end it was nice to have survived the evening with a lot of stories.

The next day we journeyed to the petrified waterfalls of Hierve el Agua. Jess and I did the hike down to see the falls from below and then took a swim. The water color was unreal and being able to walk and swim in the pools was stunning. It was like being able to swim in Yellowstone's pools if they were nice and refreshing. On the way home, we toured a mezcaleria where they showed us the labor-intensive process. We finished off our Oaxaca trip with a few bar stops and a lovely rooftop dinner with Jeff, Nicki, and other wedding-goers.

I worked out with my family to hold Christmas a little early in order to jump on another sailing adventure with Alejandro and crew. I landed in Phuket at 1am on Christmas day, couldn't get to sleep until 4am, and was headed to the marina by 9am.

Yacht Haven Marina had a chill vibe on Christmas. The charter company walked Dro and I through the boat systems on our 38’ Lagoon, “Hermione” while Taylor (‘T’), Hannah, and Nicole filled the galley lockers. I'd done a fair bit of research on catamaran construction and operation but it was nice to see familiar equipment aboard. I was also happy to operate as first mate for another trip. Skippering is stressful and I was happy to do another chartering dry run before I try it on my own.

We got out of the marina at 1pm and tried to make it up to Koh Hong. The day was particularly hazy and I wondered if we'd get blazing sun at any point on our sail. There was about 1 knot of wind, so we motored our way north and eventually gave up at Koh Phanak near dusk. (Some mooring information is here, but the definitive guide is the Southeast Asia Pilot.) We jumped on the dingy and I motored us around the karst features. We noticed a bunch of tourists heading for a cave so we decided to check it out as well. We were lucky and it was nearly low tide because the cave was actually an extensive underground river and it took us back in a serpentine path until we discovered light! We looked at each other and said, "can we fit through there!?" We ducked under the limestone arch and popped out in a hong (Thai for 'room') in the middle of the island. It was incredible. None of us were expecting to re-emerge in the middle of the island so it was wild. Just as we did it, the kayaking tours started coming through the “Bat Cave” tunnel; we were lucky to have gotten the solo experience just before dark. We paddled back through the tunnel back to our boat for dinner. (Here's our GPX/GPS tracks)

The next morning, I was up by 5am (thanks jetlag). By 6:30, I couldn’t wait any longer and I popped my head into Dro and Nicole’s deck hatch and started singing the James Bond theme song. I wanted to get to the island before it was overrun with tourists, and my ploy worked. Dro jumped on the helm and I operated the windlass. We motored for about an hour while people started waking up. We passed Koh Hong with a small hong and vertical islands. It's amazing how the island cliffs spring straight out of the sea--such strange, mindblowing geology. The longtail boats were zigzagging around with the first tourists, but we were ahead of the larger tours. Since Khao Phing Kan and Ko Ta Pu (James Bond Island) are in such shallow water (less than 2 m according to our charts) we decided to anchor off Koh Yang and dingy over. Unfortunately, the wind was starting to pick up and we were heading straight into it. The couple foot waves were enough to soak everyone on the boat and we needed to bail, with our way-to-small-to-be-effective bottle. T declared this is exactly how James Bond would have arrived on the island. (That is if he didn’t have a seaplane.) We managed to stay afloat to land at Ao Phang Nga National Park and walk the path up to the beautiful overlook on Ko Tapu (เกาะตะปู, “spike”). Khao Phing Kan also include some other cool caves and neat limestone features for exploring. We caught this island at low tide so we could get close to JB island. I convinced T to re-enact the scene from The Man with a Golden Gun, but was disappointed that no one saw (or remembered) the film.

Back aboard Hermione, we raised sails and finally got enough wind to properly cruise. Motoring at 3 kts is nothing compared to 6-7 kts on a beam. It’s quiet except for the waves and wind and boat creaks. Such a lovely day cruise down to Ao Nang. Ko Kudu was gorgeous and I wish we could have stopped – worth checking out the next time we’re in the neighborhood. Dro and I took turns sailing, although he gave me plenty of shit when I got caught in the lee of an island near Ko Pak Ka. We anchored at Ao Nang around 3pm and went ashore for snacks, beers, and to pick up Travis, Sarah, and Dee. Generally, we’d just order up a load of food across the menu and eat family style. That was a fun way to explore the Thai culinary experience, especially when getting particularly adventurous. We loaded up everyone motored south to Railay (Rai Lei) Beach for the evening with dinner and drinks ashore. With the new crew, I bought out a sheet and pillow and slept on the trampoline of the catamaran. It was chilly, but waking up with the killer view and the birds singing to me was heavenly.

In the morning, we popped around the corner to Ao Phra Nang Beach at Tham Phra Nang. Everyone grabbed their snorkeling gear and dove in. I headed through the tiny islands to the south east and out along the cliffs. The water visibility was poor, so the snorkeling was so-so (big fan coral and barrel sponges) but the island features were great and the little caves and cliffs were fun to explore. I climbed a rope to get to what I thought would be a fun little deep water soloing spot, but the rock was so sharp, I couldn’t make it up to the smoother stone and fell 5’ back into the ocean – nothing very exciting. I headed back to Princess Cave and found Travis, Sarah, and Dee on the beach. A bunch of climbers are playing around on some routes in the caves and we watched them, like the hundreds of others congregating on the beaches by speed boat and longtail.

About noon, we went back to Ao Nang and picked up the last two crewmembers, Michael and Gail. After resupplying ice and a few other provisions, we pointed our boat south and anchored north of Ko Dam Khwan “Chicken Head Island”. The snorkeling here was far better and I spent nearly a couple hours exploring. Watching the branded sea snake hunt was a particular treat, but the schools of parrotfish, angelfish, butterflyfish, and damsels across a backdrop of anemones, brain coal, clams, staghorn coral, and plate coral was just as awesome. I chased the schools around with my GoPro gleefully. We had the whole crew assembled at this point, so it was fitting to have finest sunset of the trip that evening. From the trampoline, hammock, and foredeck, we watched the golden sun drop through the craggy islands on the horizon with our happy hour drinks in hand. Travis fired up the drone and flew it around our boat at sunset to capture the moment from 1000’. The footage was spectacular. There were 7’ long coffin-like berths in the front of the pontoons. They were slightly claustrophobic, but I realized I could pull the cushions out to sleep on the tramp without losing heat through the netting. That helped a lot.

In the morning, we continued South, stopped for a lunch snorkel at Bamboo island. The visibility continued to improve as we moved out of the delta into deeper waters. Large coral heads towered 10 feet above the ocean floor and I played around diving deep. On shore one of the longtail drivers was playing around with a small ray to the delight of the tourists. We then headed around the east side of Phi Phi Dom (the northernmost Phi Phi island). We stopped off at the monkey beach on the west shore of Ton Sai Bay. The monkeys were feasting on fruit the tour boats brought, but weren’t shy either. When a new longtail landed, one monkey jump on the boat stole a plastic juice bottle from a woman’s hands, jump to shore, and popped the cap off expertly.

We filled water at a floating pier and anchored on the west side of the bay. A couple dinghy rides later we were all ashore at Phi Phi (Pronounced “Pee Pee” and often written “PP”). We feasted on mango sticky rice at the Mango Garden, sipped beers on the beach, and had dinner at Anna’s. I tried three different dive shops before I found one that would pick me up on Hermione on their way out of the bay. Eventually, Phi Phi Scuba Diving Center agreed and in the course of 15 minutes I had my gear picked out and paperwork squared away—although I didn’t have my passport or dive certifications so I may have guessed at a few numbers.

At 7:30am the next morning, a yellow PP Scuba boat pulled up to Hermione and we were headed to Ko Bi Da Nok. I met the divemaster “Thaiman” from the Netherlands and my dive partner, Rob, from Seattle who was working on his divemaster cert. We three and two Chinese divers geared up and hobbled over to the back of the boat and took a big stride into the Andaman Sea. It was cloudy so the reef didn’t glow, but the visibility was 10-12 m. We circled down and around the island. We saw 3 black tip reef sharks, an eel, loads of starfish (and feather stars), clams, fans, trumpetfish, etc. Despite being a ‘beginner’ dive site, the current was stiff and the Chinese woman could barely move forward because she kicked with her ankles bent. Funny but annoying. We did a surface interval at Maya Bay on PP Lee and then dove Mushroom Coral. I talked Thaiman into letting Rob and I have more autonomy, so this was a much nicer dive and I could explore at my own pace. We dove down a cliff to 18 m and saw Clark’s and False Clown Anemonefish (Nemo!) in their anemones, a couple rays, lionfish, a lobster, Giant Travelly, Slugs, whip coral, plate coral, sponges. Greatly enjoy that one. When we got back to PP, I was surprise to Hermione still anchored. So after our debriefing, I texted Dro to link back up with the group. It turned out they wanted a little more shore time for hiking, massages, and in the case of Dee, a commemorative world map Thai tattoo on her left shoulder.

After lunch and a short downpour, we did a little provisioning, and then sailed down to Maya Bay at Phi Phi Lee for the night. This spot is super popular because it’s the beach from “The Beach” and everyone wants to be like Leo. We snorkeled around to a few spots on the north side: a secluded beach and a cool tidal cave. In the cave, the waves were amplified and knocked me off my feet. It was fun, but a little unsafe and I did end up strapping my shoulder. That evening, riding the high of diving and duty-free scotch, we blasted music into the bay while dancing under the stars until midnight. The next morning, I lay bleary-eyed on the foredeck around 6:30 when I heard 3 loud longtails cruise past. I jumped up and ran around the boat yelling, “let’s go, first dingy to the beach now!” as I released the lines and dropped the boat into the chop. People were taking their time getting up, so Dro, Nicole, and I headed in to the fabled Beach. It was already swimming in people at 7am and we only made it about 10 steps before someone asked us to pay the park fee. None of us had money, so I returned to the cat for cash and the 2nd load of people. Admittedly, it was a very nice beach—if it weren’t for the hundreds of people. We snapped a few pictures but didn’t wait around for more invaders. We swung around to the other side of the island to poke around in Pileh Lagoon. This was stunningly beautiful as well, but wasn’t as crowded since it didn’t have a beach. After a dingy loop, we headed south to Ko Ha Yai.

Ko Ha Yai had a set of islands with different geological formations, described best as a bricklayer best effort after gallons of Chang beer. There was a cool arch island that we could swim through and the snorkeling was the best of the trip. The coral was diverse and vibrant and fauna abundant. I enjoyed joining huge school of Yellowback Fusiliers. We then headed to Ko Lanta for our evening anchorage. We originally planned to eat at a nice restaurant recommended by the guidebook, but after waiting for an hour, we found a different spot down the beach, where the steamed lemon red snapper was potent but very well done.

The following morning, Dro woke me early to make a major sail all the way back north to Ko Yao Yai. I was very worried that we’d get trapped down south and couldn’t pull off this big leg, but the winds locked in from the NW and we cruised 6+ kts. As we rounded PP Dom, I put us on a beam reach and watched our speed climb to 7.5-8 kts. Awesome. As we came to the southern tip of Ko Yao Yai, the darkening storm clouds seemed particularly ominous. The winds were only 14 kts, so we keep the sails out, but this was a mistake. Dro was at the helm, suddenly we had sustained 30 kts and Michael and I went into crazy action. We managed to get the boat into the wind and fuller the genoa and drop the main. It was clear we should have seen this coming and reefed, but we didn’t. In the action, one of the jib sheets flapping aggressively wrapped under the galley port hatch handle and broke the window. We enjoyed getting the breeze through the galley, but should probably have closed those while under sail. Some good lessons learned and ultimately about $200 shared between the 10 shipmates. We motored the rest of the way to our anchorage outside Yao Tai Beach Resort. We managed to do 52.1 miles in 8:35 with 5.3 kts (6.1 mph) average and 7.8 kts (9.0 mph) max; by far the biggest sail of my life.

We knew that Ko Yao Yai was a Muslim island, but assumed that westerners would still have easy access to liquor on New Years Eve. This turned out to not be entirely true, but we worked a deal out with a beach restaurant to BYOB, so we brought our remaining liquor to shore. I found someone willing to sell beer and the crew danced until midnight, when the pier lit up with fireworks. For the record, laying on a white sand beach in Thailand watching fireworks light up the Andaman Sea is a great way to ring in 2018.

Way too early the following morning we headed back to Yacht Haven Marina. We topped up our diesel for $80 and went through the checkin procedures. I was in a hurry to meet my girlfriend, Jess, at the airport, so I said my goodbyes and took off for the next segment of the adventure. Jess didn’t have an international phone plan so we preplanned to meet at the southern end of the airport. I was relieved when she triumphantly showed up on the far side of the world. We taxied to our hotel and explored old town Phuket by foot. We got a nice lunch with Changs, Coconuts, and curry and visited the Hai Leng Ong (Dragon) Statue, Wat Mongkol Nimit, the silly Phuket Trickeye Museum, and got Thai massages at Kim’s. For dinner, we met Dro, Nicole, Michael, and Gale at Tu Kab Khao. Then we said our goodbyes again, but this time for real, and then Jess and I began our great trip south.

We had a “ferry” booked the next morning, so we asked the front desk to get us a taxi. The nice lady called a few taxis said they were far away and then looked over to her counterpart, as if to say something secret, and then called another person. She said we’ll have a driver out front in a couple minutes. We were surprised when a decaled Mitsubishi rally race car pulled up and waived us over. The interior was covered in auxiliary gauges for monitoring, presumably, the engine and turbo pressure and temperatures. He blasted Mexican, Thai, and English techno all the way to Rassada Pier – quite the wake-up. But then we sat around for an hour while ferries loaded and took off. To my surprise, we were loaded into a smaller speedboat with triple 250 HP outboards. We pulled out into the open water and proceeded to get knocked around in 4’ waves all the way to Ko Lanta and then down to Ko Lipe. We covered 135 miles at ~30 mph and by mid-afternoon we were deposited dazed on a beautiful beach in southern Thailand. The island is entirely walkable and popular as a low-key destination for families. We grabbed some fruit on the way to our hostel and then walked out to the beach through the impoverished ghetto. On the other side, photogenic beauty reappeared. We did a short snorkel, but the tide was so low it was hard to find routes through the coral. Jess still thought it was great since this was her first time snorkeling! I was also her first time backpacking, in the travel sense. She was making the most of it, but was struggling with a persistent cough. I always hate traveling while sick, but she seemed unfazed. That evening, we snagged beers and walked down sunrise beach around to sunset beach. Normally this wouldn’t be possible, but because the tide was so low we could sneak through the rocky areas. Then we crossed the island to the southern beach and had a tasty dinner on the beach with Mai Tais and G&Ts. We took the Walking St back to the hostel and perused the wears, trinkets, and eateries. This evening was definitely a highlight of the trip.

The next day, we tried to catch the sunrise on sunrise beach but it was cloudy. Instead we walked the beach and checked out all the beached longtails. The 2-meter tide is very aggressive so half the day the boats can’t clear the reef. As the tide returned, we did another snorkel and then set out to catch our ferry to Langkawi. Unfortunately, I assumed it was the same timing as the previous day as that boat was to head on to Langkawi, so we ended up missing our speed boat and had to go through an annoying process of getting another one. Fortunately, getting stranded in paradise isn’t so bad and we saddled up on the beach to wait to go through immigration. A few hours later we found ourselves in Malaysia in a driving rainstorm. We taxied to our hostel, the Honey Badger Hut (I couldn’t not stay there), and we headed for Kampung Lubok Buaya and wound up at Lavazza Café on Cenang Beach for dinner. It rained more. We tried to Uber, but after 25 minutes and no progress from our driver, we just walked back to the Hostel in the rain.

In the morning, I let jess sleep in and went out to gather breakfast. I found it surprising that the large grocery store we visited the night before wouldn’t open until 10am. Luckily a place next door, Siti, was open and a woman with a hijab was cooking made-to-order roti canai with a honey sauce – way better than traditional donuts but probably no healthier. I did really like all the fishing boats in the small river in the vicinity of 6.303155, 99.722448, so I stopped to get a few pictures on the way back to the hostel. Jess was up and ready to go when I got back. We had our breakfast and Ubered to the Langkawi Cable Car. It’s a bit like Disney Land around there, but we managed to find it a ride up to the Langkawi Sky Bridge. The storms had moved off, but the visibility was still poor from a low-lying Malaysian haze. We hiked up to the top of the mountain and then down to the arcing Langkawi Sky Bridge. The suspension bridge used a single internal tower, which is very cool architecturally and mechanically. There were also a couple transparent floor tiles on the walkway where we could stand over a hundred feet of nothing, and did the trick of giving our hearts an extra beat.

Back at sea-level, we hiked up to base of Seven Wells Waterfall and then the hundreds of steps up to the upper pools. We were hauling our full packs at this point, so Jess and I were dripping sweat by the top. Fortunately, this area was a great spot for locals and tourists alike to cool off in the humid midday heat. We had fun relaxing in the pools and watching the local long-tailed macaques hunt for natural foods and human refuse. We had arranged for an older taxi driver to take us to the ferry terminal at 1:00, but when we got back down at 1:00, we asked the driver to wait while we got some food. The price for a meal is incredibly about $2 and exploding with flavor. This seems to be the universal case in Malaysia.

After this, our driver slightly raised the price of our pre-negotiated drive by about a dollar. I lightly protested but he explained it was documented on the sign at the Oriental Village but forgot the amount. Then he went way out of his way to make sure we saw the sign, in what I took to be an over-the-top gesture of honesty. After that hiccup he zipped us across the island to the Ferry terminals in Kuah. Along the way he showed us his circa 1993 military photo and explained that he was part of the UN peacekeeping operations led by the US military in Bosnia. I got the sense he was impressed with the leadership in that conflict because he started referring to me as ‘sir’ after I said we were American.

A far more relaxed ferry ride dropped us off in George Town on Penang Island. The city was sizable, but the area around Fort Cornwallis was quaint with small shopping areas like “Little India”. Actually, this area was recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2008 because it represented an exceptional example of a multi-cultural trading town in Southeast Asia with unique architecture and lifestyle. The rain came and went so Jess and I were happy to drop off gear at our hotel. We visited Kapitan Keling Mosque and tried to get a drink at the rooftop bar of the Kontar, but lightning prevented anyone from going on deck. Instead, we found a dim sum place and I gorged on dumplings until I couldn’t see straight. Jess managed to exercise self-control, which I couldn’t understand as we were being faced by an endless supply of such wonderfully scrumptious packets of happiness. Somewhere along the way we also snagged a quarter of a durian. It’s a horrifically stinky fruit but tastes ok if you pinch your nose. Jess and I watched in amazement when a small Asian woman devoured an entire fruit without gagging.

In the morning, we walked in the rain to a ferry to a bus station that took us to Kuala Lumpur. I think taking the train would have been slightly nicer, but the bus worked out well. Then we took a metro across town to the Bukit Bintang district and our 5-star Marriott across the street from the Pavilion KL, a grandiose shopping center with Louis Vuitton, Prada, and other fashion shops that I had zero interest in visiting. We walked the surface streets past dozens of construction jobs to the Petronas Twin Towers and KLCC Park. It was interesting to see the famous bridge halfway up the towers by day, but the towers were far more spectacular at night when they seem to glow with rings of light. The evening was unexciting: we strolled the mostly-closed KL Citywalk and purchased a celebratory Pina Colada (which is taxed something like 300% because Malaysia is a Muslim country). We did finally figure out the series of skyways on the way back to the hotel though, so that was far more pleasant to stay out of the rush-hour traffic.

On our final day in Malaysia, we took the metro to Batu Caves. Initially, we (accidentally) visited a very strange, neon-powered collection of ‘psychedelic dioramas’ in Ramayana Cave, named because the oddly sculpted characters depicted the Indian story of Ramayana. Feeling confused, Jess and I walked along the shops until we discovered the actual Batu Cave, along with hordes of tourist buses. We climbed the 272 steps past the golden Murugan statue to the monstrous Cathedral Cave. Passing through this cavern, you climb another set of stairs to an open limestone room with a Hindu Temple and mischievous monkeys. We saw one woman have her lunch striped from her hands. On our way down the main stairwell, we decided to do the Dark Cave tour. It included nice cave features (columns, curtains, stalactites, gour pools, etc.) and critters (crickets, bats), but we didn’t see the famous trap-door spider. We did some fast shopping at the gift shop and then it was Ubering to the hotel and airport to head further south.

The way the flights worked out, Jess got to Singapore a couple hours before I did. I met her at our hotel and we linked up with Mervyn, my first grad school advisor from Georgia Tech. We hadn’t seen one another for 12 years (!) but hit it off talking about complexity theory, former colleagues, and the future of technology. He was nice enough to show Jess and I to a section of town tourists don’t often visit: Eminent Frog Porridge. A Chinese run establishment that served bowls of whole cooked frogs slathered in sauce. The frogs were pretty good actually and I ate a couple of them. But Merv wanted to give us the authentic Singapore experience and ordered a feast of chili crabs, prawns, fried rice, and veggies. It was a flavor rollercoaster. We then got a couple drinks (including a Singapore Sling for Jess) at the Bungy Bar at Clarke Quay. It was nice to sit along the Singapore River and reminisce about a part of my life that seems so long ago.

Early the next morning, Jess and I were on a plane heading back stateside and somewhere around 24 hours of travel later we were comfortably back in burque.

After a very scary year, the UNM lobos are racing for at least a couple more years. So it was an absolute pleasure to go up for my 5th Red River Race Camp with the Lobos. Where else can you ski with some of the best racers in the world?! This year, Jeff, Jon, and I paired up with Nicky - a local racer from Taos - for two days of race training. Here's a little taste of his casual skiing:

Unfortunately, with the exception of the torchlight, no one skied anything except the bunny hill. That's global warming for you. I suppose we need to get used to it.

However, we worked a nice progression and I was carving an okay turn without flailing all over the place by the end of the camp. It's also a fun time to socialize with the student athletes and Sandia racers in proper apres style. Jeff and I were in the camper so we hosted a couple parties 'down by the river' - hilarious in their simplicity: all it takes is a jambox and rapid lightswitching to have a good time. Red River is also so tiny that the UNM van kept crossing paths with us. Friday night, we got a lift to Bull of the Woods and Saturday we got a lift to the banquet. I started thinking everywhere we'd go headcoach Joe would show up with the magic bus to take us to our destination. Until next time Lobos!

I had been feeling bummed I didn't get a Moab trip this fall, but then a large international work trip fell through so I got my chance. (Thanks Indian Consulate in Houston.) Jess and I went up with the camper after she got off at the hospital and overnighted by the Narraguinnep Reservoir outside of Cortez. In the morning we dodged the Pronghorn and snuck over to the Needles Overlook - a spectacular view of Canyonlands. We had the place all to ourselves since it was early on a Thursday and a little hazy that morning.

We set up in the usual spot at Grandstaff Campground and then asked around at the Negro Bill Canyon for a lift up to the top. After talking with a half dozen folks, a nice couple volunteered to shuttle us to the top so we could canyoneer Medieval Chamber. We headed down the wash from the radio tower, past the Fins and Things 4WD road, and then rapped into Medieval Chamber. It's a tight, short canyon but a super neat spot. Then you walk out to the top of Morning Glory Arch. I had always dreamed of doing a simultaneous rappel off the arch after seeing Justin and Leigh do it years ago. It was too scary for Jess (and for me) to start normally, so I muntered partway down with a 2nd rope attached to the normal anchor to a nearly free hanging position and then had Jess rap off the other side, connected to me. I think this is a nice safe way to do it for others who are more risk averse. It does take a little coordination operating two lowering systems and rope skills to pull the anchored rope while free hanging.

After hiking out of Negro Bill Canyon, we still had a little daylight so I suggested we go to Delicate Arch. The Arches NP road construction and short daylight made us give up early and we ended up at Double Arch for the beautiful cloudy sunset.

In the morning, Jess headed off on a couple hikes while I joined a big group (Briana, Josiah, Dave, Laura, Melanie, Nate, Andrew) to mountain bike Mag 7. Briana thought it would be great if I had a rainbow beard, so that happened... There was a howling West wind that helped us cruise the beginning section through Gemini Bridges, Bull Run, Arth's Corner, and Little Canyon. At that point most of the group bailed and headed back to town via Gemini Bridges Rd., but I talked David and Josiah to continue on the Gold Bar climb to Gold Bar Rim and Portal. Everyone was saying it was going to be tough (and stupid), and they weren't kidding. The climb was mostly doable but very punchy. Then at the top the riding becomes extra difficult. I was say the three of us pushed it pretty hard, but still ended up walking about 50% of the drops. The storms and nightfall were rolling in on us at this point, so it was particularly annoying that I burped my rear tire and then rolled it off the rim in back-to-back technical sections. I couldn't re-seat it with a CO2 so I had to throw in a tube. It worked. We slowly picked our way down Portal as it traverses a massive cliff-face. The pucker factor is high, and the skill-level to ride this stretch is equally extraordinary. Hikers, asked how many of us we started with and we responded, "8 riders, but only 3 survived this far." Then Josiah piped in that David's full-face helmet was so he could have an open-casket funeral. David, Joe, and I rounded the point, ripped much of the bottom section (except the switchbacks and narrow slots), and cruised out to the road right at sunset. We were all fully stoked at our accomplishment! That lasted about 10 minutes until we had to fight a 30+ mph headwind home in a driving rainstorm to Grandstaff Campground. Once we arrived everyone had packed up and left for a VRBO, so we piled in the camper, passed out food, beers, and cooked some stew for bonky Dave. Mission accomplished.

The next morning, Jess and I decided to do another canyon in Arches while the rest of the group went climbing. We did Big Horn Canyon on a cold but clear morning. The tunnel was fun and the wondering around on the plateau is just neat. Jess got the hang of overhanging abseiling and somehow I rope-burned the back of my neck trying to manage 170m of ropes on the first rappel; but otherwise the canyon was straightforward.

It was the weekend before Thanksgiving, so I wanted to go out to GGBY. I hadn't seen it before, but I was interested in the rigging and hoped I might be able to go out onto the spacenet. It's a drive to get out to the Fruit Bowl, but we arrived on quite a scene. Everyone was packing in gear for the week-long party. A few of the shorter slacklines were bring strung up and the longer ones were being rigged - apparently the poor weather had slowed their progress. Sketchy Andy and a collection of eccentric individuals were coordinating the work. It's definitely a neat location and looked like loads of fun. This year was different because the base jumping wasn't allowed and there was more regulations, but I think the spirit will certainly live on. Hopefully I can get out on the spacenet sometime in next few years.

I've started getting better at talking Jess into difficult adventures. Most recently we rode a tandem to Santa Fe from Nob Hill. Town and the canyon went fairly quickly, but riding up to the Triangle started to hurt a little more. The tandem isn't really designed for climbing, but it certainly has great gearing for spinning. We ran into a nice couple from Scotland by the Lazy Lizard who were on the final legs of their version of the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. I apologized for the hazy weather but they reminded us they were from Scotland. "Oh right, you're feeling right at home then." They said that they were pleasantly surprised at New Mexico and were going to finish up in a few days so they could go to the Balloon Fiesta. We told them that was a perfect idea and wished them luck.

We got lucky with a nice South tailwind on the cruise North, otherwise I don't think we would have cleared the hill into Madrid. I was cranking with all my might and we barely made the pass. It was only at lunch in Madrid that Jess confessed that she stopped peddling for a while when she got tired on the climb. I decided to push it a bit on the decent into Madrid and we topped out at 49 mph in an adrenalin-packed bumpy roller coaster into town. We had a big NM lunch at The Hollar and then rushed north to catch the railrunner back to town. It was difficult, but lots of fun with such as wonderful lady. Jess's biggest ride ever! 62 miles with 4100' of climbing.

I convinced Jess to join me for a multi-sport adventure that turned into a rather major endeavor. We started at 7am at the Tram parking lot and biked down Tramway, up Route 66 (Reaper Ride) to Tijeras, and up the hill to Canyon Estates Trailhead. Jess really struggled up the final climb, but we took some time to rest and rehydrate while we locked our bikes up. After the break, we hiked past Travertine Falls and up to South Peak via the steep CCC Route. We summitted just before noon and enjoyed all the wonderful views from the top. For some reason (probably boredom), I downloaded the cachly app and started hunting for a few geocaches as we worked our way north via the Crest Trail to the Tram. I found a couple ammo box geocaches and we happily wrote messages about our fun day. The weather was good, but my hip flexor and IT Band weren't happy about the 8 miles to the Tram. We also randomly ran into Emily who was doing a S-to-N crest solo backpacking trip. She was having hip pain, but refused any help - which I could certainly relate to. I was definitely hurting by the time we made it to the Tram.

I took a much-needed week off work to join my parents and three of their friends for a canoe trip into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) Wilderness in upper Minnesota against Canada.

I got lunch with Daimon and his wife in Minneapolis - a real treat since the last time I saw him was for his wedding 5 years ago. Then a van full of excited southerners towing a trailer and 3 canoes showed up and whisked me north. We stayed in a small motel between St. Paul and Duluth that night as the rain poured down. I hoped the weather forecast was right and we would have lighter weather during the next week. Luckily, I convinced the rest of the team to take a detour to get Betty's Pies in Two Harbors on or way to our campsite and put-in at Fall Lake Campground. We had pie for dinner and we had pie for breakfast. It was fantastic.

The next day, we headed north. We portaged around Newton Falls to Newton Lake, and quickly reached Pipestone Falls, and portaged again. On the first one, Mom and I found someone with a cart to help bring our gear across, but on the 2nd we were on our own for the 1/4 mile walk. I threw the canoe on my back for the walk, but halfway through the middle thwart broke - so we set it back in place, carried about our business, and started dreaming up campsite remedial actions. Back on the water, we paddled our way up Pipestone Bay of Basswood Lake and saw a Bald Eagle leave his perch and cruise the shoreline. We did a quick, albeit jungley, hike to Azion Lake for lunch. The entire day and all the lakes were glass. It was quiet and eerie. Eventually, we found a chipmunk-operated campsite on the south-side of Pipestone Bay and set up camp around 1:30pm. With plenty of time before dinner, the whole gang took a swim and then Steve, Kurt, and Andreas fished while the rest of us heckled them.

The next morning, Dad cooked some of his legendary pancakes while Andreas and I fashioned a new yoke for the canoe. Using a hand saw, we were able to notch a section of pine tree to do the job (and it held for the whole trip!). Needless to say, we got a later start. In general, canoeing is such a relaxed way to travel through the world, aside from the portages, of which we did have one to cross over to Back Bay. At first the weather was calm, but eventually a south wind set in. Mom and I struggled into a moderate headwind through the shallow waters of Back Bay and wondered why there were thousands of dead insects on the water surface. Too cold? Natural life cycle?

The group separated some, but we regathered on an unnamed island on our way to Hoist Bay when we ate lunch. When we got to Hoist Bay, we took a 90 degree turn ENE and the winds turned to our favor. We slid past Canoe Island and Norway Island before finding a suitable, unoccupied campsite on Washington Island. More swimming. More Fishing. And Mom and I cooked Quesadillas for the crew. Steve served up a couple small-mouth cooked in southern spices.

The next day was difficult. Winds rotated to the North and we were battered making our way up the US-Canada border to United States Point. The chop was getting large enough that Dad and I were politely asked to stay close to the Andrea/Mom canoe (we rotated teams). This day I got my first taste of paddling "the barge" which was our only plastic canoe. The other two Kevlar canoes slid through the water with an estimated 76.3% less drag. After fighting the wind and chop, we turned the corner and headed West toward Basswood Falls. Surprisingly, even with the wind at our backs, the waves still made this a tough stretch. This area does not allow motors, so we were suddenly alone - at least for large portions of the day, which was nice. It felt like a wilderness area. We stopped off for lunch on a beach and looked at Canada. M&A snuck into Canada, while Dad and I may have drifted into international waters. Definitely a different scene than our southern border. Eventually, we found a campsite we called, "Camp Blowhole" because it was on the blowhole of the island that looked like a whale. It was well sheltered and we pasted the time looking at the moss and lichen that covered the island. Mom, entertained the group with a crossword puzzle that lasted a surprisingly long time (days).

We decided the leave the tents up and do a day trip to Basswood Falls the next day. We walked down the Basswood River for about a mile inspecting whatever flora and fauna (eagles, an otter, and more chipmunks!) we came across. That night we tried to catch the Northern Lights - Andreas said it would be the highest probability of catching them that night based on the NOAA data. But we didn't see anything except a wonderfully starry night.

The following day we battled another headwind south toward Pipestone. We hoped we could float through the creek from Jackfish Bay to Pipestone, but beavers had dammed it, so we had to run another short portage. On the other side, we stopped off at an awesome cliffside campsite to take in the views and rest a bit for the final push south. We paddled another hour+ into the gale until we made it back to our first campsite, where we were greeted by Charlie T. Trouble our favorite food-stealing chipmunk. Lathered on the DEET and killed a handful more mosquitoes, the state bird, for the 5th night in a row. The weather held off until that night, when a ferocious thunderstorm came through camp, but the rain had stopped by morning.

The final day was fairly easy, even with the two portages. We knew the way and a few of us were ready get off the water. It was a fun trip, great to see the world from a canoe, and the bugs were actually manageable.

largerGPS dataApproximate Distances:Day 1: 6.8 miles to Pipestone BayDay 2: 10.3 miles to Washington IslandDay 3: 9.8 miles to "Whale Island"Day 4: 5.45 miles, day-tripping to Basswood RiverDay 5: 10.7 miles to Pipestone BayDay 6: 6.6 miles to Fall Lake Total: 49.65 miles of fun + a few miles of canoeing on Day 0 to go fishing with Steve.

Like my 30th Birthday, my Mom wanted to do something fun for my brother for his 30th. She created an elaborate medieval/fantastical plot involving a bunch of people in the family. I had three roles: the first was to give Josh clues to start a treasure hunt that my parents would conduct to give him Amtrak tickets to Chicago (where he would meet his cousins and a family friend); the second was to give him a time and place where he would get a weapon (super soaker) for the final battle with the evil king; and the third was to be taken hostage, rescued by Josh, and help him kayak down the river battling river enemies to the king.

For the first clue, since we are both getting into cybersecurity work, I thought it would be fun to create do something with encryption. I sent him the following message:

Lord Marcel,

Nearly 40 years ago, Knights Ron Rivest, Adi Shamir, and Leonard Adleman created a tool for exchanging information between kingdoms. I must use this tool to securely send information from the land of Adobe as there are many eyes watching our movements.

Use your code to decipher my decimal messages by converting to hexadecimal and then to text. As an example, 454340527577251408658717599750907599391754895552930391484449 is an unencrypted base 10 birthday message.

Without going into too many of the details, Josh was required to perform RSA decryption of the coded message. The description of how to do that is here. And the python code to do that is here (for all your programming needs).

A few days letter, he sent me a message indicated that he figured it out and I sent him the coordinates for his first clue for the scavenger hunt that my parents put together. He managed to complete that and get his tickets to Chicago. Yay!

With a couple hints, and a couple required corrections on my part (whoops), the solution was determined to be "421261450043257479" or "/c3.pdf" when decrypted. That led him to adventurejay.com/c3.pdf.

He got back to me fairly quickly with the solution: White Fire Mayhem. And I told him where he could meet up with someone who would give him his water gun :) It's not easy turning 30!

For the extended, weekend party, Jess and I flew to St. Louis. The first night we had dinner at Josh's with Mom and Dad. Then we drove down to Washington, MO to pick up Grandma and take her down to the Huzzah for a beach picnic and float. We also visited grandpa in the old folks home.

The following day, we woke up early and Dad, Josh, and I competed in the Wood River Triathlon. Dad did a great job with the swim (most people just walked on the pool bottom and should have been disqualified) and came in 21st out of 234 with a 8:15. I jumped on my Dad's (small) road bike and did my best to ride the turny course. It was six laps with six 90 degree turns, so it was hard to keep the speed up. I managed to take a wrong turn into the staging area after my first lap (not much signage at this event), which probably cost me ~20 seconds. (I've got all my excuses lined up.) In the end, I averaged 20 mph for 33:20 and 25/234 although I would have been 17th without my navigational mistake. Not too bad. And Josh suffered a couple laps (4 miles) to bring us on home with 2nd out of 10 for the teams (the first group was pretty stacked).

After that we headed back to Washington, MO where we (tastefully) shackled Josh and put him in his own van with instructions on how to find me. I left in my parent's Prius with Mom and Jess, while Dad, cousin Tim, and aunt Holly came separately with the kayaks. There were a few complications with instructions, but eventually I was freed of my captors' restraints and on the water with Josh in a couple kayaks loaded with water guns and water balloons. Ready for battle, we navigated through the drunk rafts and eventually came across captured Maid Jess along with three in the king's legion. There was a water battle, and I don't really know who won, but I'll say it was us.

We jumped off the cliff and floated down to Uncle Jim's place on the Meramec. There Josh vanquished the evil king and saved the day! We played around in the river a little more, BBQed, and eventually headed back to WashMo to rest. The following day, I had one last visit with grandpa before indulging in a bottle of Chambourcin at Montelle Winery and catching our flights back to ABQ - although the trip was ultimately delayed a full 12 hours with back-to-back mechanical and weather issues.

This last week was packed with a couple fun rescues and trainings. On Weds, a couple climbers attempted to climb La Selva, but ended up on Excitable Boys and then found their way over to the football field ledge. From there they decided that it was too risky to rappel because they didn't know if they would find a place to build an anchor. So they hung out while we got our team up to the top of Muralla Grande and built a system with the 1200' line. I rushed home from work at about 5:00 and with the help of Hans' quick truck driving skills we were on at IB by 6:00 (impressive!). A couple teams were already out, so I carried the TerrAdaptor legs down. Those are really awkward to haul.

Hans, Ang, and I built the TerrAdoptor and I watched the edge while Craig was lowered and raised 400' to pick off the two uninjured climbers. We had awesome throw on the mainline and eventually a nice army of firefighters and cops to help haul. The weather was nice and it didn't end up raining so everything worked out well, especially for the climbers.

Then this weekend, Supra led an interesting training with a couple fallen climbers. Elena and I were on the strike team and found the subjects on the top of Torreon. On of the climbers was dead and the other had a femur fracture and pneumothorax both with impaled object puncture wounds. I haven't done a lot of medical lately, so it was a good WFR refresher for me: running through SAMPLE taking vitals and monitoring the patient while the raise system was constructed. Oh and I also built a nice traction splint for the femur fracture out of Elena's trekking poles! Matt came down on the litter, we packaged our patient, and then I joined the haul team on top. The final stretch of getting the little through a 4th class boulder field was a challenge, but otherwise things went smoothly, albeit a little slower than desired. It was a nice training and Elena got to learn a lot, exclaiming in the debrief that it was the "best training ever!"

Jess was getting together with old friends, Kristen and Keith, in Vegas for the weekend and she invited me out to stay with her. I said, "Sure!" We all met up at the Luxor on Friday morning and then went out to the Rehab pool party. Their friend, Josh, just moved out to Vegas so he acted as our official tour guide. Beach balls, swimming and loud music was a great start to the trip. It was super warm so the margaritas were tasting especially good. We all headed out to First Friday on Fremont St. where they have live bands in addition to the booze, gambling, street performers, and outdoor alcohol vendors. After strolling up and down the well-lit street with movie screen canopy and ziplines we ubered back to the strip and worked our way through the casinos back to the Luxor for bed. Nothing too insane, but it was fun.

In the morning the group went over to the Aquarium at Mandalay Bay. It was short but pretty nice with a few tube walkways. The gang then headed north along the strip hitting up casinos, bars, and any shiny attraction along with way. We had a great steak dinner at Mon Ami Gabi across from the Bellagio, before the rest of the crew took off for the airport. Jess and I nearly ran to catch the Cirque du Soleil at the MGM Grand. I think this show was the highlight of the trip. The hydraulic stage was awesome and the way that used it to play out different fight scenes was spectacular - especially when they were using the 'arrows' to traverse the stage.

The last day, I had to gamble a little just to say I tried it. Jess and I bet on black and won. Then we bet on 12 and lost. I played a couple hands of blackjack and lost. I did double my $1 in the dollar slots, but ultimately lost about $50 over the course of the weekend. We we're very good gamblers - but Keith and Kristen managed to win $200 at the Buffalo slot machine (and probably spent similar quantities to do so) and Josh won $1000 with a royal flush on bar-top poker on Fremont St., but with the quantity of time he spends at such things that does make sense (he's a blackjack and poker dealer and has a strong affinity for slot machines). I can see the appeal though - it's a rush to see the next card or roulette wheel spin.

Jess and I went to the Bodies exhibit at the Luxor. I had seen it in L.A. 10 years ago, but it was still fun and educational. We headed up to New York, NY to ride the roller coaster, but they had it shut down due to wind when we got there. Instead we wondered through Cesar's Palace, Mirage, and Treasure Island and got ice cream. So I think I can say I've done Vegas now and I did a little gambling, so I can cross that off the old bucket list.

Jeff wanted to do the Iron Horse this year, so I decided to provide company on the long climb. Plus Emil had a Citizen's Tour pass up for grabs and Kendrick wanted to get rid of his MTB race bib so I weaseled my way into an unofficial omnium for the weekend. Jeff wanted to give Sheliah a bed for the night, so I brought the camper up and stashed it at Tom and Jordan's cabin by Lemon Reservoir. It was a beautiful spot with nice pine forest near the Florida River. Verena and Nicole were also visiting Tom and Jordan so we had a fun little AMRC bike crew.

Somehow my front road bike tire delaminated on the drive up on the car, so on the race morning, I had to run around town and get a new tire. Got lucky to find a shop with time to do the work, but went with the Specialized Armadillo, thinking it would be like the GatorSkins. Wrong. It was way heavier and I could feel that sucker on the climbs. But, the ride started out well. I used my punchiness to stay in the lead peloton and crossed the Hermosa train tracks in 6th place (same spot that I flatted two years before), but this time I stayed with the leaders for another mile through the rollers until the big climb. Then I sat there and spun. The weather was supposed to be cold, but it was a warm sunny day and I wished I had not worn the long pants. I stopped at the first aid station for a clothing change and sunblock. I lost Jeff early on, and the rest of the crew was in the races, so I just worked my way up the mountain with random groups. Close to Purgatory Jeff caught me and was looking strong. It was cool to ride together for a while, but then I latched on to another group and he didn't chase. Toward Coalbank Pass, Jeff passed me and I couldn't climb hard. I really wasn't feeling strong, but there was a nice tailwind so conditions were good. At the top, I stopped off for a snack with Jeff, but decided to continue because I figured he'd catch me on the Molas climb. As it turned out though, he had to take the descents slow because of a rear hub issue and I didn't see him until the finish. I ripped the descents as usual but couldn't put myself into the hurt locker on the climbs to better my prior race time (even with the flat). Total time was ~4:43 (3:39 moving) for the 49 miles/5900 ft. I was actually 2.5 min slower this year compared to two years ago! That's pretty embarrassing -- but I'm fatter these days too. Luckily the train had some kind of mechanical issue so I handily beat the train when it rolled in at 12:30pm. It was nice of the snow to hold off this year too!

We gorged on some food in Silverton and headed back to Durango fairly quickly. J&S headed off to Phoenix while I rejoined the AMRC folks for a BBQ birthday dinner at their neighbor's snazzy cabin. I passed out early after a couple beers. The following day I headed into town around 11:00 and checked out all the festivities. At 2pm, my 19-34 M group launched for the mountain bike race. Instantly I could feel the exhaustion from the day before and that right about the time the climbing began. A good chuck of the riders were off their bikes and pushing on the first climb in multiple areas. We then meandered through the mesa top and dropped down to the ski area where there was a 2nd brutal climb were the majority of the riders were pushing their bikes. I cleaned the first portion to the turn, but then got off to save my legs and lungs. Then it was hairpin switchbacks back into town. I came in completely beat, went through the log obsticles, and then climbed the ramp through Steamworks (the only reason to do the race). That was super cool to hear the crowd yelling at you as you go through a brewery in a race! Then it was back out for two more hike-a-bike climbs on loose trail but then the pro group went blasting past me on the ski hill climb - they are so strong! I must say that I wasn't feeling this course at all (I think it would have been better the original, reversed direction; but they switched it because someone smashed their face into the window last year, so now we rode up through the brewery.) I relaxed a lot (too much really) in the 2nd lap because I knew I'd be in last pack of riders and I accepted it, but was able to ride my own pace for most of the final lap and actually shaved a few seconds (yay for negative splits!).

It's been a while since I've posted anything, but I'm hoping to back-fill stories of the last few months soon...

I participated in the 12 Hours of Mesa Verde mountain bike race for the 3rd year in a row. And unlike the last couple years, I didn't get rain/snow/sleeted on in the middle of my first lap. Spencer led out with a reasonable first lap (1:33) and I followed up with a so-so 1:35 without any of my patented red-lining/blow-up antics. They changed the course this year so it was a little longer at 18 miles. I did get passed like 20 times early and then I managed to have a minor crash around mile 5 on a little drop by a cliff - I didn't see the line until super late, cut right onto a babyhead, and laid the bike over. My shifting and confidence was a little rough from there on.

Josiah put in a nice 1:36 for Team Beercanical's 3rd lap. I felt I didn't leave enough on the course my first time out so I hammered a little more on my 2nd. The wind was kicking up quite a bit by this point, but it shockingly felt like a tailwind more than a headwind. I felt stronger and kept 'smooth is fast and fast is smooth' mantra close to the heart, but I somehow came in at 1:37. How strange. Josiah didn't have a good 3rd lap (1:45), so there wasn't any hope of Spencer getting in before the 5pm cutoff to force my 3rd lap; so that meant it was time to head back to camp to start the party!

A mostly AMRC crew went up to St. Paul Lodge to get some nice skiing in with friends. Andreas was training for Denali so I gave him some training weight - a 1/6th barrel of training weight - and the party was on. Jeff and I built a little booter out front for people to hit, but I think only me and Kevin did it.

Justin, Mike, Jeff, and I planned to ski off McMillan Peak to Silverton and come back up, but Justin broke his binding so we climbed to Red Mountain No. 3 and shot the north aspect. Then we climbed out of Champion Basic to the Red No. 2 ridge and dropped into corkscrew gulch (20A) back to 550. Justin got over into the sun-baked area and triggered a nice R2D2 wet slide, but easily skied out of it.

The following day we did something on the other side of the road. I'm sure it has a name, but I can't recall what it was.

Jeff and I took the A-liner camper around to 5 Mountain Collective ski resorts over two weeks. We'd been planning this trip for years, and actually wanted to go up to Canada to ski 3 other resorts on the pass, but work/life obligations got in the way. At any rate, here's a movie that I put together of our excellent trip!

"The lightly anticipated and highly sensational "Dirtbags on Skis" has it all: powder, costumes, bad decisions, crashes, humor, and a healthy dose of bromance. This film, brought to you by Why We Do It Productions, will leave you wondering how they did so much skiing without a GoPro."